


Wooden Star

by tanmaree



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 06:22:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5956885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanmaree/pseuds/tanmaree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen and Arthur's interaction in series 1 revised.  Gwen and Arthur were never exactly friends but there was something that attracted them to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wooden Star

**Author's Note:**

> I have taken some liberties with season 1 of Merlin as I did not feel like Gwen and Arthur had enough interaction. None of the characters belong to me and I make to claim of ownership, it all belongs to the BBC and Legend.

“Who’d want to marry Arthur?” Guinevere heard herself say it then reprimanded herself mentally for being so unkind to the future King. Arthur was…pompous, condescending, arrogant and a bit of a bully but there was also another side of him, a side which was kept sealed away, only shown to a select few.

Once, he’d briefly shown that side of himself to her. She doubted he remembered it now for it was many years ago. She’d been barely twelve and one minute her mother had been alive and breathing…the next she wasn’t. There’d been no time for private grieving and Guinevere’s father had packed her off to her job at the castle the very next day. Halfway through her day, Guinevere had found herself sitting on a step sobbing as she half-blindly tried to repair a tear in one of Morgana's dresses. 

“There’s no need for tears, it’s just a stupid dress.”

“I'm not crying over a dress!”She snapped then looked up and took a sharp intake of breath when she realized who exactly she'd just snapped at. “I'm sorry, My Lord,” she said on a rushed breath, he was only a little older than her but he was still to be addressed properly. 

The Prince tilted his head and watched her as she tried in wain to swipe away the tears marking her young face; “Then what is the cause for the tears? Surely not a boy.”

Guinevere had no idea what that meant. Was he implying that no boy would look at her because she was a mere servant? “What if it is a boy?”

Arthur stood up straight and puffed his chest out; “If you say he has disgraced you then I will defend your honor, I am training to be a knight.”

Guinevere almost laughed despite her tears, the idea of the Prince of Camelot defending her honor was surely an amusing prospect but she shook her head instead; “It's not a boy, My Lord.”

“It's not the dress, it's not a boy, what is it?”

“What does it matter to you, My Lord?”

“I am to be King one day, I can't have servants weeping on my castle steps making a spectacle of themselves.”

He was just being a rude boy now, she was sitting in a secluded stairwell, there was no one but him to see her tears. “I'm sorry if my grief is inconvenient for you, Sire.”

“Grief?”

“Yes, Sire, my mother died recently. My father says she is now a star in the sky and that is how I can speak to her but I'm not sure if I believe it.” She blurted it all out needing to tell someone how she was feeling but as she said it, she realized the Prince of Camelot was not the appropriate person to be sharing her thoughts and feelings with. 

He shifted from foot to foot and had the good grace to at least look uncomfortable, he did not however have the good grace to apologize or offer his condolences. Instead he asked; “How recently?”

“Yesterday, Sire.”

Something she couldn't identify flashed in his blue eyes; understanding? Guilt? In an instant it was gone and he was frowning down at her; “Tomorrow, leave your grief at home there is no place for it here.” He said it harshly and turned on his heel and strode off leaving her sniffling on the step clutching Morgana's dress tighter than was necessary. 

The next day, she was walking down a corridor when the Prince rounded the corner and headed towards her followed by his manservant and tutor. Guinevere looked around for an alcove to slip into and hide until he passed. She didn't want another encounter with the Prince. But there was no where to hide. She kept her head lowered as she had been taught to do in the presence of royalty. She did not look up until a warm body collided with hers and hands pressed a small object into her hand. The Prince barely looked at her as their fingers brushed and his bicep brushed her shoulder as he pushed passed her and continued down the corridor without a backwards glance. 

Guinevere lingered in the corridor watching him disappear around another corner before looking down at the object in her hand. It was wrapped in a rag and she pulled the material aside to reveal whatever it was the Prince wanted her to have. It was a small piece of wood which had been roughly carved into the shape of a star. 

That night she'd asked her father to put a small hole through one of its points so she could thread a length of leather through it and wear it around her neck. When her father asked her where she'd gotten the star, she'd merely smiled and said nothing. He wouldn't have believed her had she told him the truth.


End file.
